[ Once the crate is at his boots, the Unversed turns around silently and slithers back toward the water. Vanitas crouches down to examine what it brought up. ]
They are what I feel, creatures made of darkness. Negative emotion. They're called Unversed.
[ He searches for a seam to pop open the crate as he talks. ]
no subject
They are what I feel, creatures made of darkness. Negative emotion. They're called Unversed.
[ He searches for a seam to pop open the crate as he talks. ]
They're under my control.